


Man and Child

by Hypello



Category: Original Work
Genre: Childhood, F/M, Hardcore, Older Man/Younger Woman, Orgasm, Original Character(s), Original Fiction, Pedophilia, Sad, Sex, Ultra Hardcore, Underage - Freeform, Underage Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-11-24
Packaged: 2018-08-31 18:35:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8589331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hypello/pseuds/Hypello
Summary: A man meets a young girl and their relationship develops. Sexually Explicit! Lots of sex! Please comment and tell me what you think! Completed! Thank you all for the Kudos and kind words! 6/22/2018: BIG EDIT UPDATE! Nothing about the story has changed, but I've cleaned it up substantially. It's a lot easier to read, thankfully. THANK YOU EVERYBODY FOR READING AND RESPONDING! A sequel can now be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/8974762/chapters/20519530





	1. Starting a Universe

Gloria sat staring for a long while, an emerald pierce. Her expression started at concern, heading through thoughtful and ended up determined. Her tongue hurried around her lips nervously before she spoke and when she did, a cool adulthood settled upon her child’s frame. 

“Do you want to see me naked?” 

Gloria easily crossed the line I’d been so carefully pacing. Both my shoulder angels were in the same state of shock and neither delegated any advice. Gloria’s cheeks became pinker and pinker the longer I deliberated and in the end, it was this adorable nature that became the deciding factor.

“I do.” I whispered, hoping to somehow sneak it by common morality. I moved my fingers gently through her yellow hair. Her whole body relaxed and she smiled, exuberant with excited youth. She crossed her arms to grab the bottom of her tee. 

“Good.” she said, “I want to see you naked too.” 

The shirt came up and off, bringing together dreams and reality. Her belly had a subtle roundness, trace remains of baby fat, and her skin was tenderly smooth. A bead of nervous sweat rolled down her curves, across her small breasts and vanished. I saw all this in the only glance I dared take away from her eyes.

 

“Now you.” she said. The dim apartment was amplified by her glow. I eventually hear her voice in as an echoed memory, prompting a shake to reality. With just as much respect I remove my shirt. After a hesitation she rested her hand on my chest. It’s so warm. As warm as the fires of hell would be hot. I stop breathing when it touches me and thrills of hurried joy chase down my spine. 

“You can touch me.” she says, “I want you to.” 

I fight away the urge to simple grope her and place my hand over her sternum. Her softness amazes me. She smiles broadly. 

“Can I tell you a secret?” she asks. I nod. 

“I’ve wanted you to touch me for a long time.” she said, “I mean--touch me in an adult way.”

She looked left and right, as though anybody else would be here. It was adorable nonetheless. 

“I’ve watched porn before.” she said, “On Margaret's tablet. I thought...maybe…” 

“Can I kiss you?” I asked. Caught off guard, she inhaled sharply and swallowed down what must have been an avalanche. A full hesitation later, she cautiously nodded. I put hands on her cheeks. They were cooked red and just as hot. I leaned in to deliver the most careful kiss I could. The world ceased around us. Walls vanished and her and I were just energy in the sky. No longer were we the thirty and twelve, but rather angelic cries of old creatures enjoying a salvation reserved only for holy beasts. 

Her lips nearly didn’t exist with how soft they were. The taste was indescribably good. Near the end of the kiss, I dared my tongue across her teeth. Her breathing had intensified. As I pulled back she moved forward until it broke.

“That felt so good.” she said. She was making fists. 

“Amazing.” I said. 

Her hands moved around on my chest indecisively. Patterns of warmth painted across my skin until she straightened up and took hold of her pajama pants waistband. They slid down her legs, those beautiful legs, and kicked off a few feet away. Simple white underwear was all that was left on her. She looked at me expectantly. I rocked up my butt to slid off my pants and kicked them on top of hers. It should be no surprise that all of this had left me as hard as a rock and it became suddenly apparent without the second layer. Gloria became fixated on my crotch and the head poking through the slit in my boxers. She didn’t ask permission to touch it and I didn’t even care to give it. 

Two fingers gently touched the heat like they were testing water. Her hand looked impossibly small next to me. I wasn’t the biggest in the world, fair enough, but her youth made her tiny to the touch. An electric thrill of simple pleasure ran through me. Her finger slid around it, keeping her hand around the very top. No pressure was applied but the friction was enough for heavy breathing. 

“Does it hurt?” she asked, looking up at me. Her eyes were so pretty. 

“No way.” I said, “It feels really good.” 

She moved her hand down the shaft. My muscles clenched in a hard attempt not to come. As she began to ascend again I took her wrist. 

“Stop.” I said. 

“Why?” she asked. Her eyebrows curved upwards, “Don’t you want to come?” 

Listening to her twelve-year-old voice speak so candidly about the subject almost made me bust without anything else. Still breathing hard, I forced myself to look into her eyes. She smiled coyly. 

“I told you I watched a porn.” she said. Her other hand joined in and both moved up and down me until the dam could no longer contain the flow. A surge of pure primal pleasure burned through me. My muscles went tight as sticky cum blew out over my legs and her arms. She flinched back, shielding herself as though it could be corrosive. Returning with interest she probed the cum on her arm with her index finger, as though it were jelly. She carefully put a bit on her tongue. The sour expression that came next made me laugh out loud. 

“That’s so gross!” she said, spitting.

“Let me go get you a towel.” I said. Gloria pushed me back with both hands. 

“No, it’s okay!” she said, “Let’s keep going.” 

Just looking at her near-naked body was enough to bring about another erection. 

“What do you want to do next?” I asked her. 

“I…” Gloria looked around for my hands, then took them and lead them to her crotch, “I want you to make me feel good now.” 

When I hesitated, she again became coy, “You know, I’ve masturbated before.” 

My left hand snaked around to cup her butt. My right hesitated on her belly, then slid down into her panties. There is no way to accurately describe how soft she was. The human body is a thing made of skin and tissues inherently soft, but this girl, this child, was beyond that. Her skin was angelic and warm, oh, so warm. She watched my hands as I touched her. My fingers explored around her lips. I used my thumb to trace out the slit, resting on her clitorius just long enough to give pause in her breathing. I debated whether or not to ask permission for what I was to do next, but she looked up at me with a furious desire, so I stayed quiet. 

Thumb on her clit, pinky on her taint, my index finger pushed open her lips and found its way in. She was so hot inside. Hotter than I could ever imagine. My body seized in pleasure, my dick trembling with anticipation. She let out a sharp breath which transitioned into hard breathing. My thumb kept rubbing her clit, my index finger slid out to the tip, then returned back in. She gripped me like a vice. With each penetration she became a little wetter. She put her hands on my shoulders. My hand on her butt wandered around, up her back, across her chest. Her nipples were beginning to get hard. I gently squeezed her amazing breasts, each one only as big as my palm. 

I increased the speed. Soon her voice was outside of her control and gently moaned between hungry panting. My finger slid in and out of her, my thumb continued to work the outside. She lurched forward, hunching against the pleasure. I wrapped an arm around her to pull her close. Faster and faster I went, the sound becoming wetter and wetter. It was when I curved my finger up to touch the deepest part of her did her body go hard. She fell onto me, fingers clawing into me. She clamped down on my finger and I could feel her orgasm explode through her. 

She hung like that for some time, teeth clenched. When she looked back up at me, it was with an amazing smile. We kissed again, deeper this time and with her tongue touching mine. There was a long silence. She rested her head on my shoulder during it. Her body heat was just as pleasurable as the rest of her. Eventually, god knows how long it was, she stood up again to look at me. 

“I want to have sex.” she said. 

“So do I.” I told her. 

Just like that we both became completely naked and both observed. She was the pinnacle of pre-teen beauty: developing breasts, a round little belly, knobby knees and amazingly smooth skin. Her vagina was a simple slit. 

“How do you want to do it?” I asked her. She considered the question, looking me up and down. She didn’t respond, but simple climbed up onto me. The heat of her vagina radiated as it got close to my dick. Excitement mounted and I could have cum then and there. 

“Are you sure?” I asked her, “It might be harder like this.” 

“I can put as much in as I want.” she said, “Don’t worry.” 

She kissed me again and I didn’t worry at all. A little rational part of me wondered if I should get a condom, but that thought was destroyed when the tip of my dick met the softness of her lips. She had stabilized herself with her hand on my shoulders. I gripped her butt with both hands. Exploring with my fingers I could feel her butthole and how it tightened and relaxed. I almost put a finger in, but decided not today. 

She was concentrating on my dick. She looked at the space between it and herself, eventually deciding the best course. She aligned the two with her hands. A smile to me, another kiss, then she pushed me inside. 

The universe is nothing but pleasure. I lost the ability to breath in this new world. It’s a place devoid of anything human. Just a cosmos of ancient, primal joy. Even though it was just the head that sat inside of her, the sheer amazement of it made me cease to be me. Her insides were so hot, so bumpy and wonderful. The expression on her face, the bright-red look of both pain and wonderment was the most perfect thing I’d ever seen. Her stomach became concave, emphasizing the ribcage. 

I took a breast in my hand, let the nipple bump across my fingers. She squealed couldn’t help but do it again. Her hips were shaking. She pushed down a little more, devouring me just that much. It took everything I was not to come. Moisture slid down my cock. She pushed down again, wincing and moaning at the same time. She’d gone to her limit. Her pussy was spread wide around me. It was a pearly pink and heat-colored red. She turned up to meet my eyes. 

“We...We’re having sex.” she stammered. 

“Does it feel good?” I asked. 

“So good. So much better than anything ever.” 

As she moved back up, my internal started to shout don’t you come, ever. She moaned as she pushed back down, as did I. Her voice was amazing. The sharp breathing, the moaning, the little squeaks and squeals of joy as I explored her body with my hands. It didn’t take too long before we found a comfort zone and she was sliding up and down with ease. She kept a slow speed, slow to me, at least. To her it must have been piston-fast. She closed her eyes to experience it and nearly screamed when I began to both suck on her breasts and thumb her clit. The sound of wet squelching, moaning and heavy breathing filled the apartment. It smelled like sweat and come. 

“I’m almost there.” she said and thank god. I was right at my limit and literally digging wounds into my legs to keep myself from exploding before her. I pulled her close and thrust into her. It was just enough to make her scream for real. Her body went taut, her teeth slammed together. Her nails dug into my back and her toes stretched out. I was holding a twelve-year-old girl as she had the biggest orgasm in her life. When it finished she sucked in air like she’d been underwater.

“Can I come inside you?” I asked her. She gave me a sharp look.

“Don’t you fucking take it out.” she said. I smiled, grabbed her by the hips and with finality, lifted her to the top of my dick and slammed her down as far as she could go. She opened her mouth in a silent scream and I came. I came for what felt like years. The liquid pleasure poured into me, overflowing with hot fire across every bit of my skin. I was no longer human, no longer alive, but simply ecstasy incarnate. 

She collapsed onto me, head on my shoulder. She was breathing just as hard as I. She shifted her legs to wrap around me. During this, my dick slid out of her. Cum flung to the ground and seeped out of her, down her legs. I can’t even tell you how much time passed. Nor do I care. 

“Let’s do that every day.” she said when words returned. We were both human again. This beautiful twelve-year-old creature on my lap, naked, full of my cum.

“My legs are shaking.” she said. 

“It’ll be okay.” I told her. 

“I’ll have to tell my mom I went for a really long run.” she said. I laughed. 

“You’re amazing.” I told her. She was still so red I couldn’t tell if she blushed or not, “Do you want to take a shower?” 

“I do.” she said. She kissed me again before climbing down. She gathered up her clothes and headed for the bathroom. I sat for a while before following her. Standing in the door, I watched her through the frosted glass, her tiny shape standing under the water, hands busy cleaning. She stepped up a leg to put the shower head against her crotch to wash out my mess inside. 

“Can I stick my finger in your butt next time?” I asked her. She slid open the shower door just enough to show me her skeptical expression. 

“Only if I can put my finger in yours.” she said. 

“Deal.” I told her and together we laughed.


	2. Waiting For Delivery

Gloria would normally show up at around nine-thirty on my days off. Her mother, she explained, worked the night shift and was gone until six the next morning. Before meeting me, she was spending her summer as a couch potato watching YouTube or texting her friends. Our meeting, fateful as it was, deviated her to my apartment where we would play board games, watch television, crack jokes, and as of yesterday have amazing sex. 

Today she was in a white tee and shorts. She smiled brightly when I answered and entered the apartment as though she’d lived there all her life. She stepped out of her shoes before entering the carpeted living room. 

“I ordered a pizza.” I said. She gave me a concerned look over her shoulder. 

“No onions.” I said, palms up. Another smile and she sat flop on the couch. I sat next to her. She shifted so her legs spread over my lap. Her socks went up past her ankle and were bright blue with yellow flowers. I could see her toes wiggle. She had her hands over her belly, her head propped up on the armrest. 

“Do you want to play a game?” I asked. No answer. Her expression was blank. 

“How about a movie?” I offered. Nothing still. 

“Do you like butts?” she asked, breaking her nonchalance as though it had been a loading screen. I coughed through a sudden laugh. 

“Where did that come from?” 

“Yesterday you asked if you could put your finger in my butt. I thought it was kinda weird so I watched a video about it.”

 

“And?” 

“The boy seemed to like it. The girl didn’t really.” 

“Do...do you like it?” 

Gloria pursed up her lips, “I never put anything in my butt.” 

“I see.” 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you like butt play?” 

“Oh…I don’t know…” I hemmed. I was pretty ambivalent on it, not something I ever strove for but something I didn’t really dislike, either. Gloria was clearly unsatisfied with my middling. She huffed and flipped herself over, tucking her knees and shaking her butt around. 

“Do...you...like...this?” she asked in time to her rhythm. I smirked. 

“I like your butt.” I said. I reached out and playfully slapped it. Her movement ceased. For a moment I was worried I’d hurt her, but the look on her face had changed to a serious contemplation. Her tongue worked around her lips. 

“Take a look at it, then.” she said. 

I hesitated, turning to look at the front door. 

“Just until the pizza guy gets here.” she said. 

. My fingertips tucked under the waistband of her shorts. Both the fabric and skin were equally as soft. A thrill ran through my body as both her shorts and underwear slid down to her knees. Her bottom was wonderfully round. Like examining a fine stone, I moved my palm over each cheek, then with my thumbs inward, spread them to reveal her actual hole. It was as clean and as perfect as the vagina that neighbored it. It twitched a little as my hands approached it. Gloria was looking at me, nodding affirmation as I pointed.

I glossed a finger with saliva and brought it home. Her asshole was just as tight as her pussy, if not more. She made a noise as I pushed my finger up to the first knuckle, then a small cry as I went down to the base. When I leaned to look at her face, it was bright red and her teeth were grit hard together. I carefully, and quickly, removed myself from her. 

“That wasn’t nice at all.” she said, gingerly touching her butthole, “It just felt like a really bad poop. It hurt.” 

“Maybe you just have to get used to it.” I said. She made a displeased sound, “Try relaxing some more.” 

“I was relaxed.” 

“Relax more then.” I said, “Take a deep breath in and out.” 

She did. The second time in lasted a few minutes and I’d moved my finger in and out twice before she grunted in pain. As I withdrew, she sat up next to me, squirming her butthole on the sofa. 

“It felt a little good kinda.” she said. 

I thought about it, striking a pose like a detective cluing together his big case. The most obvious thing to come to the front of my mind was lubricant. I’d tried with saliva but it didn’t seem to be enough so maybe in the future...it was a shame I didn’t have any on-hand. I opened my eyes and was face-to-face with Gloria, who’d parked herself close enough so I could smell the peppermint on her breath. She kissed me. It was as amazing as always. As it intensified, she crawled over onto my lap, legs akimbo around me. 

She began to breathe erratically as my hands started exploring her body. I slid up her shirt to grab her breasts and gently roll her nipples between my fingers. I went between her legs and my middle finger found its way inside of her. I had learned from yesterday. I hooked up the end of my finger to hit her sweet spot, bringing out a wonderful reaction. She shivered with pleasure, throwing back her head and letting growls of bundled joy from her nose and between her teeth. 

I kissed her neck, licked down to the hem of her shirt. I rolled it up over her breasts, sucked on her nipples, hard in my mouth. I ventured forth, adding my index finger alongside the middle. It was too much for her. Wrapping herself around me, she buried herself into my chest to ride out her climax. Her juices flooded across our legs. She moaned as I pulled my fingers out. It was just us and our heavy breathing. 

“You’re so good at it.” she panted. 

“Not really.” I said, “You’re just really sensitive.” 

There was a knock at the door. Both Gloria and I looked at one another. She flew to her feet, pulling her shorts back around her hips and scurrying off to the bathroom. I straightened up and went to get the pizza. I opened it on the kitchen counter and called an all-clear for Gloria, who came back out looking worried. 

“My pants are all wet.” she said, “I think I peed a little.” 

“It happens.” I said, “Have some pizza.” 

\---

I set up a fan in the window, blinds closed around it, and hung both Gloria’s shorts and underwear to dry on the back of a chair in front of it. She sat bottomless, cross-legged in front of me on the floor as I sat on the couch. We’d eaten our fill of pizza. 

“Do you like things in your butt?” asked Gloria. I shrugged.

“Never really tried it.”

“But you like playing with butts?” 

“Kinda-sorta.” 

“What else do you like?” 

Looking down at Gloria, this twelve-year-old beauty, half-naked and abundant with hormones, the answer came pretty quickly. 

“Blowjobs.” I said. Gloria stuck out her tongue. 

“Yuck.” she said. 

“You’ve never even tried doing it.” 

“I’ve never eaten poop before either.” she said, “But I know I won’t like it.” 

“Would you...for me?” I asked with a saccharine smile. She rolled her eyes. A skeptical frown appeared as she waddled over on her knees. I jimmed my shorts to my ankles, letting loose the tremendous hard-on I’d had since fingering her off. She looked at it like it was an upcoming doctor’s shot. With a deep breath, she gripped the base and, eyes shut, stuck the head in her mouth.

It was warm, sticky and wet. Not unlike her pussy. Her tongue added a whole different dimension and the pleasure was sharp, like a surgical strike against each varying vein, instead of the whole-body affair intercourse offered. I rubbed the top of her head, breathing hard through my nose as she twisted her head around to apply suction. I could feel my load start to rise, a bullet chambered and the wick beginning to burn down. Near the apex, she pulled back, flicking her tongue about like an upset snake.

“It’s gross!” she spat, “It tastes so bad! There’s this gross juice coming out!” 

“I’m...sorry.” I said, working by the sudden blue balls, “You don’t have to do it anymore.” 

She looked reproachfully at my dick, “But you’re not done yet.” 

“Just use your hand.” I said. 

So she did. Both hands on the shaft, up and down, working carefully near the top and within two minutes I was done. She let out a shriek and side-stepped as much of the blast as she could. Most of the cum landed on the carpet, but a little bit spattered her cheek. She gagged, grabbing the hem of my shirt and wiping it off. 

“You know.” I said, “I came inside you yesterday. Why doesn’t that gross you out?” 

“I didn’t have to see it or smell it or anything!” she said, “I just washed it. It’s so gross!” 

I laughed, then stood to go get a towel. As I wiped it up she sat looking thoughtfully at the back of her hand. With an expression I can only describe as determination, she lowered her tongue onto the slick of it. A shiver passed over her. 

“You don’t have to force yourself.” I told her. 

“I just want to be better at it.” she said, “You make me feel so good and I...I get grossed out. It’s not fair.” 

I kissed the top of her head, “All in good time, then.” I said. 

“I guess.” she smiled, “Can I have a real kiss?” 

“Of course.” 

I leaned it to deliver and was met with the back of her hand. My tongue touched the salty-slimy slick of cum. It tasted like rotten copper. I too gagged and as I wretched, Gloria began to laugh. A long, hearty laugh that I couldn’t help but join in as our night wore on.


	3. Further Discovery

Our night went as usual, a pleasant mix of video games, television and conversation. Gloria had brought over the glossy course book she’d been given for the forthcoming school year. She attended St. Maydell's, a private school down on sixth and twelve. She was proud of her education, not only because she was attentive to her future, but because it was the result of her mother's life-long labors to be able to afford such a place. 

“I'm thinking about try some AP classes.” she said, sitting casually in the easy chair, still-half nude with her hands behind her head, “Probably just English and Chem.” 

“Chemistry, huh.” I said, thumbing through the book. There were well over a hundred courses, heading a variety of sub-sections. I found chemistry under science and read off the prerequisites for the AP class. Gloria smirked, waving a hand in fake modesty. 

“I got all A's in those classes already.” she said. I raised my eyebrows at her and she blushed. 

“Okay, one C. But that was because I missed some classes because I was sick.” 

“You're a smart girl.” I said. Too smart maybe to be having such brazen sex with a schmuck like me, “I didn't do nearly this well in middle school. I didn't even take chemistry.” 

“It's a lot of fun.” said Gloria, “I like learning about what makes what and how stuff mixes.” 

I couldn't help by smile. I kept reading through the course listings, checking the descriptions of the ones that interested me. 

“I have to pee.” said Gloria. She brushed my knees with her hand as she walked by. A question sprouted up as I finished reading. I mindlessly trailed her to the bathroom, leaning open the door. She gasped as I stepped in, squeezing her knees together and covering her chest needlessly with her arms. Common sense returned from the vacation my attention to her book at afforded it and I turned around sharply. 

“Sorry.” I said, “I, uh...I wasn't thinking.” 

“You just surprised me, that's all.” said Gloria, “You don't have to look away.” 

I peered at her in my peripherals, then carefully turned to look. She was sitting on the toilet with her knees together, feet apart. She was leaning on her arms crossed over her lap, smiling coyly. 

“What's your question?” she asked. 

I popped my lips a few times, “I'll wait until you're done.” 

“Wait.” said Gloria, catching me just as I stepped through the door. I leaned my head back in. 

“Do you wanna watch?” she asked. 

“Watch what?” I asked. 

“Watch me pee.” she said. Her smile grew bigger, “That's why you came in here, right? Pretending to just want to ask a question.” 

“That's not it at all.” I said, “I actually did want to ask you a question.” 

Her playful smile resonated an aura that floated about like a butterfly. I watched as it did a circle and landed on my nose, dissipating the minuscule bit of annoyance I'd worked up. Good humor returned. I crossed my arms authoritatively and stood sternly in front of Gloria. 

“Since I'm here.” I said, “I might as well see.”

“I didn't even pee even a little yet.” she said, “You came in at the right time.” 

Slowly, Gloria parted her knees. Her vagina was just as smooth as the rest of her, a peachy-pink slit with an round little clitoris at the top. Both me and her watched it intently. A stream of clear urine appeared from the bottom, pouring into the toilet. It went on for a lot longer than I'd expect, she must have been holding it for a good while. When the stream ceased, I returned to eye contact and found her blushing furiously. 

“It's kind of embarrassing.” she said. 

I was going to tell her that watching was her idea, but the redness in her cheeks made me hold back. Shoulders hunched a bit, she unrolled a few squares of toilet paper and cleaned herself. 

“Do you...want to watch me pee?” I asked, “To make things even?” 

She made a weird face, “Not really.” 

“Then...” there was a sudden hunger, “Then can I eat you out?” 

“Eat me?” asked Gloria. She'd closed her knees again. 

“I want to lick your vagina.” I said. 

“Oh!” Gloria clapped once, “Yeah! I watched somebody do that in that porn! Okay!” 

She started to get up, but I gently pushed her back into place. Her eyebrows rose. 

“I want to do it here.” I said. The location was a part of the allure, a part of the urge. 

“On the toilet?!” she asked. 

“I really want to.” I said. 

Gloria thought about it for a moment, “I...guess so...” 

I dropped the booklet and knelt down before Gloria. I took her knees in my hands, kissing her gently before pulling them apart. Her pussy called to me, radiated a splendor that drew me in like a sunset would an artist. I hovered over the toilet bowl as I pulled towards her. Her taste relieved tension I didn’t even realize I had. It was so damn soft, with a layer of peach fuzz so fine it was undetectable by any other means. A little bit of the acrid taste of urine remained, but was mostly overpowered by the taste of her skin. My hands steadied myself on her thighs. 

I started around her lips, going out as far to the pelvis and returning to the clit. I kissed around, provided suction where I could and let my tongue do everything else. I had to lower myself a little further to get it near her hole, breaching her lips with my tongue. It was as hot as ever inside of her, tasted as beautiful as she looked. Her breathing sped up, yet maintained a steady pace. I worked around her entrance, teased inside and went up and down her slit. I made a pattern and adhered to it. 

“Let's have sex.” she said, suddenly. I looked up at her. Her cheeks remained just as rosy, despite her serious expression. It was the cross from a child to an adult ready for what she wanted. I swallowed, still tasting her. 

“That feels good but I just want to have sex.” she said. 

“Right here?” I asked. She nodded curtly. I moved and leaned against the wall like she was being arrested, both feet and arms spread. Her butt cheeks pulled apart slightly and her pussy shimmered with moisture from not only me, but her own ambitions. I had my dick out before even getting to my feet. I grabbed her by the hips and pressed my the head against her butt. She took me with a hand and guided me inside. It was our second time having sex. Unlike the first, I was in control here. I vowed quickly to not betray that power. I pushed into her only as much a I did yesterday. 

She took in a deep breath. On the exhale she moaned and dropped her head. As I pulled out to ready another thrust, her hips followed me back, chasing the source. I pushed hard, crossing the watermark and going deeper than ever. She barked a half-scream, half-inhale. Her fingers clawed the walls. 

“Was that too much?” I asked her. 

“Too much.” she said. I withdrew, returning to a depth I knew acceptable. In and out I went, each time getting tighter, wetter. She closed around me in a way only a girl her age could. Her youth created a vacuum of sheer joy. She was breathing hard, hard enough make her torso shake. Her head was down, arms still up against the wall. She was up on her toes, both to match my height and to combat the ecstasy coursing through her. 

My hands found her breasts. Her nipples were hard, reactive to the touch. My eyes wandered to her butthole, tight now in the moment. I almost did it, but was cut short with her breathless orgasm. I pulled her off her feet to dig a little deeper, hoping to curve into her sweet spot and I must have because the she muffled a scream into her hand, slapping the wall with the other. She kicked back flat-footed, with the action just coarse enough to pull me from inside of her. The timing was perfectly awful: I came just as I exited and blasted all over her backside. It missed her shirt, thankfully. Her head jerked up and she looked back at me. 

“Oh, fucking gross!” she said. She waggled her butt angrily, “I can't believe you did that!”

“It's not my fault!” I said, “You moved in weird way and pulled me out!” 

“Gosh!” still bent over, she tugged off her shirt and socks before doing a strange half-bow walk around me to the shower. She slid the door open and clambered inside, turning on the water and letting it clean my mess off her back. I sat on the toilet and watched. For a good ten minutes we sat in silence. She cleaned her back and then the rest of her, taking a few moments in the heat of the shower. 

“What was it you wanted to ask me?” she said, “I mean before.” 

I looked at the course book still on the floor. 

“I didn't know that St. Maydell’s went all the way to twelfth grade. I was just wondering if you were going to go all the way there.”

“My mom says I am.” said Gloria, “I want to too.” 

“That’s good.” 

“Maybe one day I’ll wear my uniform to show you.” said Gloria. The offer really did sound appetizing. I slipped the book under my arm and stood to pee. As soon as I’d started, the shower door opened and Gloria peeked her head out to watch. I gave her a smirk and side-stepped to give her a better view. I gripped my dick by the base. It was still hard enough to be handled this way. 

“Now we’re even.” I said to her. She rolled her eyes. 

“Not until I cum on your back.” she said before returning to the shower. I laughed. I finished up, washed my hands and sat flop on the couch. After she was done, Gloria inspected her drying clothes and determined them wearable. She hopped into them and joined me, snuggling close. It was only midnight. Typically, Gloria would stay with me until about two or three, then return to her upstairs apartment to either sleep or do whatever until her mother came home.   
Tomorrow I had off, but the next day was work, so that meant that tonight would be the last night for five days we’d be together. The silence created a universe for us. I took pleasure in listening to her breathe, to feeling her weight on me. Eventually we’d fade into some other activity but for now we just floated along and I couldn’t have been happier.


	4. The First Look Back

Routine: 

My alarm goes off at seven and I’m shat, showered and shaved by seven-thirty. On my half-hour walk to work I stop by a local coffee shack and get a double espresso and a bear claw, both of which are gone by the time I arrive. There’s an eight hour shirt and then I reverse the tape and walk back home. Sometimes I stop by the grocery store, but more often than not I already have something for dinner in the house. Lately, however, ever since a small animal named Gloria has taken up residence, my need to grocery shop after work has increased. 

After I get home, I dip around for a few hours and then typically go to sleep. I much rather have a lot of extra sleep than a lot of extra fatigue. This is my life. Before Gloria it was mundane. After Gloria, the mundane remained as such, but that much more bearable. 

Gloria. 

The clock just struck three, an hour away from freedom. Even my job isn’t anything beyond ‘boring’: just a matchstick of a man stuck behind a video rental counter. One of the last in the country, management keeps saying, a dying breed. Business seems to be pretty good, though. No matter the day of the week there’s always a steady crowd just hungry for a DVD rental of Blues Brothers. It’s Monday already, three days since I last saw Gloria. Yes--working weekends is mandatory in the high-impact field of DVD rentals. She knows my schedule too and we both play to it. I once asked if she had a cell phone and almost got her number, and god bless, her smarts kicked in and reminded us that maybe evidence of communication wouldn’t be that great an idea. 

I find myself wondering if she misses me like I miss her. It’s not just the sex, though that turned out to be pretty amazing. We’d be hanging out for a long while before that. 

Oh, Gloria…

Doors closed, time circuits on: let’s go back about four months. Just when Spring planted a flag in the corpse of Winter and shot summer some signal flares. It was a night off for me, which without Gloria was a spectacle of single-player games and falling asleep to infomercials. That and laundry. Doing laundry at the god-knows-when hours was so much easier. Nobody was awake, the machines were always empty and there wasn’t any rush to clear them or have them cleared. 

Laundry is on the same floor as my apartment, damn near basement level. The light was already on, an unfortunate sign when looking to avoid competition, but I shouldered in anyway. A single washer was whirring away, twenty-two minutes left. Content again that I’d not be rushed, I packed away my clothes into a washer and paid it to start. When I turned to leave, I saw her. She was sitting cross-legged on the big wooden table behind the swing of the door. In pajama pants and a tee shirt with a shooting star on it, she had her hair pulled into a knotty tail and was flipping through something on her phone. 

There’s no such thing as love at first sight, I don’t think, but I couldn’t help but feel something anyway. Much like a cool breeze during a sweltering day, seeing her sitting there in the laundry room was like understanding something different in my life, but only for a second. I didn’t stand and stare, though my quick look felt like I did. She looked up anyway a simple glance from the tops of her eyes. We exchanged the most polite of smiles. 

Twenty-five minutes later and she was still sitting on the table. With her legs straight out in front of her, she was now stabbing at her phone with her index fingers, the sound indicating some sort of rhythm game. I switched my laundry into a dryer, paid up and left. She didn’t get a chance to smile this time. 

The dryer takes a little longer to get done, about an hour. Speed ahead to that, past my sad-man snack of half a block of cheddar and to me back in the laundry room. I make a line to the dryer and gather everything up in my arms, moving slowly as I turn to avoid putting anything clean on the floor. Gloria is sitting again cross-legged, dutifully folding her clothes out in front of her. She’s holding up a pair of short-shorts when we make eye contact. Once more, polite smiles and I head for the door. 

“If you don’t fold them they get really wrinkly.” she says. I lean backwards to peer around the door. 

“Excuse me?” I say. 

“Your clothes. If you just make a ball like that they stay all wrinkly. You gotta fold ‘em.” 

She squared up her shorts on a stack next to her and turned up a sweet smile my way. 

“I like wrinkles.” I said. 

“If you say so. You do kinda look like a weirdo that would like that.” 

“You’re a weirdo.” I shot back, acting on the instincts remaining from grade school, “Folding laundry at this time of night. Don’t you have school tomorrow?” 

“It’s summer vacation.” she smugged.

“So soon?” 

“My school’s vacation is May to August.” 

“Pretty lucky.” 

She folded a pleated skirt over her lap, “Why are you doing laundry so late?” 

“No one else here.” I said. 

“Me too.” said Gloria, “I mean, I do it now for that reason too.” 

“Cool.” I said, probably the least cool way to end a conversation, “Well, have fun folding.” 

“Have fun being wrinkly.” she said. 

“I will, thank you.” 

And that was it. I returned to my apartment. I threw my clothes on my bedroom floor, right in the spot designated for clean. Arms crossed, I looked down at the pile, then shook my head and returned to regularly scheduled programming. 

A hour later, there was a knock at my door. I whipped around in my chair. It not only snapped me out of the television haze I’d fallen into, but sent a thrill of worry through me. Who would be knocking at my door at two-thirty in the morning? It knocked again as I approached, a hurried little triple-beat as adorable as a knock could be.

I didn’t know what I was expecting to see on the other side, but Laundry Room Gloria wasn’t it. I didn’t know her name back then, she was just a blond little girl with a cute smile. She stood in the door with her hands behind her back, bobbing on her heels. Her demeanor was as if she knew full well I’d answer her call. 

“Can I help you?” I asked. With a grin, she presented me with a single long sock. I recognized it as one of mine. 

“You dropped this.” she said. 

“T-thanks.” I reached out to take it, “How did you know it was mine?” 

“I watched you walk down the hall.” she explained, “After you took your wrinkle-ball from the dryer. I was worried you might drop something and you did.” 

“I see. Well, thank you very much.” 

“You didn’t fold your clothes anyway, did you?” she asked. I shook my head. She gave a reproachful smile before turning on her heel.

“Have a good wrinkle.” she said before vanishing through the nearby stairwell door.

Let’s take a break. 

Back to present time, present day.

I emerge from my daydreams, hunched over the counter, head in hands, staring ahead through the big glassy storefront out to the highway. Traffic is at a slow trickle this time of day. On the other side of the street there’s a strip mall. Back inside my office, there’s only two people browsing DVDs. I check my phone. It’s three-thirty. The next guy on shift should be showing up soon. 

As I stare out across the highway, I see a store that’s always been there but under these specific circumstances of memorial daydreams and a new life with Gloria, suddenly came into sharp focus. It was a sex store. They didn’t call it that, of course. It was called ‘Sarah’s Lingerie and Novelties’, but everybody knew what they meant. When I first moved into this part of town it was a laugh that I was so close to such a place. I’d never even seen a sex shop before in my life.

Half-an-hour left, huh? Let’s go back again, then. We’ll skip ahead to the next night after my initial meeting with Gloria. Without any laundry to do, I was just sat alone in my apartment with television and emails. My life was pretty droll and still is outside of you-know-who. The time was one-twenty-six in the morning. I remember it because I looked at my phone just as the minute clicked over and when it did, there was a knock at my door. The same adorable knock as the night prior. 

I couldn’t see anything through the peephole--wait, if I stood on my tiptoes and angled down I could see a fish-eyed head of yellow hair. I slowly opened the deadbolt and revealed Gloria in the wait. She was wearing fleece pajama pants and a simple green tee. Her hair was freed, long enough to just cover her ears. 

“Hi.” she said. 

“Hello.” 

“What’re you up to?” she asked. I shrugged. 

“Just watching television.” 

“Oh.” Gloria nodded through the awkwardness, “Do you wanna maybe hang out?” 

“Me and you?” I asked. 

“Y-yeah.” 

“Is that okay? Also, it’s really late and…”

“My mom is at work.” said Gloria, “And I’m really awake.”

Doubt began to circle my waters of judgement. I squat down to her level, “Maybe it’s not okay to ask men twice your age to hang out really late at night.” 

“Twice?” she said, “How old are you?” 

“How old are you?” I returned. 

“Twelve.” 

“I’m thirty.” I said. 

“That’s not twice.” said Gloria, “That’s...uh...like one and a half.” 

I stood, “You should probably just go home.” 

“It’s so boring there!” she complained, “All my friends are either sleeping or too far away. I don’t have anything to do.” 

She casually tilted herself to look past me and into the apartment.

“Are you watching commercials?” she asked. I didn’t answer. 

“You must be as bored as me!” she said. 

I scrutinized her. She was standing in her typical Gloria pose, though back then I wouldn’t know what anything typical about her was. She had her hands behind her back, her legs crossed at the knees. She was still looking in at my TV. Her beauty was undeniable, even to somebody who didn’t think they’d be attracted to such youth. 

“Are you hungry?” I asked. I noticed how strikingly green her eyes were when she looked up at me. They shimmered like water. 

“Sorta.” 

“I’m going to go to that Denny’s down the street. You want to--”

“Come with you!? Yes!” she clapped her hands together, “Let me go get ready. I’ll be right back.” 

“Wait!” She stopped in the doorway to look back. 

Recalling this story four months later, I find it hard to believe that I waited this long to ask what I asked next. 

“What’s your name?” I asked. 

“Gloria.” she said, “I’m Gloria. Who are you?” 

I told her my name. She came back to me and stuck out a hand. I shook it. Her grip was surprisingly tight. 

“I’ll be right back.” she said again, “Don’t leave without me!” 

Let’s fade back to the present-day. Time travel is always possible, so we can return to that night sometime in the future. Right now, let’s focus on me being in Sarah’s sex shop. My shift had ended and I’d taken the perilous trip across the highway on foot. Usually I’d go home the other way on a safe route of side-streets and footpaths. There was this funny idea of somebody at work watching me run across a highway in a beeline to Sarah’s, but...whatever. 

Sarah’s was a lot bigger than I’d thought; a showroom for deviance. There was a wall of various dildos and strap-ons just a few feet after entering and the shelves beneath them were stocked with lube. I browsed the various bottles and tubes with extreme scrutiny, reading ingredients and weights. I settled on a bottle of warming lube and one of regular, both water-based. 

I walked through the lingerie fairly quickly, as I doubted they would sell any neglige for twelve-year-olds. Past it was a selection of vibrators, which again I took some time browsing. I settled on a simple pink facsimile of a penis, complete with glans and veins, that had a black turn-dial on the base to adjust speed. I looked up over the shelves to see one of the clerks stocking a shelf in the next aisle. We made eye contact and only then did I feel the burn of embarrassment. I forced a smile and hurried off to another section. 

All told, I spent an hour inside. I got through payment fairly quick and couldn’t help but wonder what those clerk-girl’s reactions would have been if they’d known I was buying most of these very adult toys for a very twelve-year-old girl. This notion made me smile, actually. I jammed my purchases into my backpack, thank god I brought it today, and began the long walk home. The late-day sky was sunflower yellow with the world’s shadows beginning to stretch away from it. My next day off wasn’t for two days and already the anticipation was killing me.


	5. Dinner Date

Life went on. My days without Gloria are exactly as they were before I knew her. Well, maybe except that I think about her. The mechanics are all the same, even if the appearance is not. Before I even realize it, it’s Thursday already. I sleep in pretty late, crawling out bed around noon--which again, is typical of a non-work day. 

I go for a walk around the city, listening to music and sticking to places without much traffic. It invigorates me enough to stew up a fun idea for tonight and in the last stretch I stop by a local grocery store for a single bag of ingredients. After that it’s a haze of video games and whatever, all of which vanish like smoke when I get the Gloria knock at my door. 

She’s dressed in a purple shirt two sizes too big with a cartoon fish on the front. She’s wearing black bloomer shorts underneath and is barefoot. She smiles beautifully at me before marching in. 

“Have you eaten?” I ask her. 

“Nope.” she says, “Do you have food?” 

“I was thinking we could...cook something? Together, I mean.” 

“Like what?” 

“Crab Cakes?” I make the offer without confidence, hands up. A defense just in case she denies me. She makes a curious look. 

“I’ve never had crabcakes.” she said. 

“They’re fun to make. Come on.” 

In the kitchen, she pulled up to sit on a counter, watching as I unpacked next to her. She kicked her feet errantly. 

“I cook sometimes at home.” she said, “Like burritos and stuff.” 

“Frozen food?” 

“Yeah. But I cook it in the stove! I don’t use the microwave.” 

“Good job.” I say, “Old enough to use the oven.”

“Don’t be mean.” Gloria puffed out her cheeks.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Come on, help me out. Panko, Crab, mayo, green onions, lemon juice, salt and pepper and a shallot all go in here.” I pointed to a bowl, “Then we mix until it’s like play-doh.” 

“That’s it?” 

“That’s it.” 

Gloria slid off the counter, “Can I cut the onions?” 

I took a knife from a nearby drawer. Before handing it to her I reeled back, “Are you old enough to use this?” 

Adorably, Gloria saluted with her heels together. 

She did a good job at it and was pretty proud when she scraped her pile of diced scallions and shallots into the bowl. I piled in panko and she squeezed in lemon juice. I added mayo as she mixed until it was moldable. I showed her how to curl her hands to make a perfect cake, which was pleasant not only to teach her, but to feel the warmth of her hands as I did so. 

“You can eat it like this, too.” I said, putting my current cake in my mouth. Hesitantly, Gloria did the same and her eyes lit up, hand on her cheek. 

“This is delicious.” she said, “They’re going to be so good when they’re cooked.” 

Oil in a pan, frying hot. Both me and Gloria watched over our babies as they turned golden brown. The smell was intoxicating. While they were frying, Gloria stood with her hands on her cheeks, her smile unwavering. 

“I’m gonna make these for my mom.” she said. 

We went through the batch, piling the cooked crab cakes onto a plate. As the last ones went in, Gloria snuck around me to pinch into her mouth. I didn’t notice until she’d swallowed and the expression she showed me made my heart stop with how amazingly cute it was. 

“This is so good I have to pee.” she said, spinning around and hurrying towards the bathroom. A swell of pride followed the burst of excitement and I rode both to finish the last cakes. I was putting the pan in the dishwasher when Gloria yelled out at me. 

“You’re out of toilet paper!” 

“Under the sink!” I yelled back. With two cans of soda I put the crabcakes on my temporary card-table dining room. I saved the easy chair for Gloria and took a folding chair for myself. I heard the door open and the tank on the toilet flushing. When Gloria returned to the living room, she had in one hand the bag from Sarah’s sex shop and the pink penis vibrator in the other. It wobbled slightly as she held it up for me to see. 

“What is this?” she asked, head tilted. 

Before I express how much joy her discovery brought me, I should tell you that I had forgotten all about my purchases. I suppose two days of routine could do that and I did put it in a place I hardly ever visited, mostly out of nervousness of having them. Now, though, looking at Gloria and the almost-confused look on her face as she stood with the items in her hands, nearly killed me with laughter. Her confusion turned to infected laughter and when I calmed down, I explained to her where I got them. 

“So, this is for me?” she asked. I shrugged. 

“For both of us.” 

She slipped it back into the bag. She sat it on the floor next to her while we ate. Her expression of joy wavered not once during the meal, with each fresh crab cake pleasing her as much as the last. She looked almost hurt when the plate was empty. 

“Thank you.” she said, also finishing her soda, “That was so good.” 

“You’re welcome.” I said. Gloria put her hands in her lap, content. They only stayed there for a moment, as when she again noticed the Sarah’s bag at her feet, she brought it up to the table. She gave me a look as if to ask permission. I nodded. 

“Let’s see.” she said, “We already know about Mr. Pink…” she put the vibrator on the table, “Then there’s...a bottle of…” 

Gloria squinted as she read the label, “Lubricant?”

“It makes this slippery.” I said, “You know...in case they’re dry.” I cleared my throat. I hoped the inflection carried over. Gloria’s curt placement of the lube on the table told me it did. 

“What is this?” she asked. From the bag she removed a flat plastic container. She looked it over then showed me its front side. 

“That’s edible underwear.” I said. It was watermelon flavored. The texture was not unlike a fruit roll-up and was sprinkled with sugar. Gloria gave me a strange look as she pulled it open and removed the candy garment. Saying it was underwear was being awful generous, as it had a triangular-shaped front and a string back, with only what looked like a single horse-hair’s worth of candy holding it all together. 

“Do you want me to wear this?” asked Gloria, “It’s so scratchy.” she flecked off some sugar with her fingernail. 

“No, no, I just bought it to be funny.” 

“Can I eat it?” Gloria asked this, holding the underwear in front of her with the index finger and thumb of both hands. A foolish smirk worked across her expression. I sat and enjoyed the moment as though I were looking at a picture, an oil still-life a blond twelve-year-old holding edible underwear after dinner. 

“Tear some off for me.” I said. 

“You can have the butt part.” said Gloria. She pulled the front from the back and handed me the knot of ‘underwear’. We both held up our pieces in cheer before eating. 

It tasted less like the fruit roll-up it looked like and more like those sugared gummy slices one would get at a candy store. Its cheapness was evident, too. As I gnawed away at my bit, I watched Gloria bite into hers, gripping it with both hands and wrenching back and forth to rip off a piece. It took her a considerable amount of effort to do so and she was red in the face by the time she started chewing. I nearly gagged with laughter. 

“It’s not bad.” I said. 

“It would take a year to eat this if somebody was wearing it.” she said, “It's hard like beef jerky.” 

She fought another bite and resumed rooting through the bag. 

“More lube.” she said, placing it next to its brother, “And some…” she read the package, “Butt plugs. You really do like butts.” 

“I like your butt.” I corrected. 

“You want to plug it up that’s how much you like it.” 

“There’s two in there. One for me and you.” 

Gloria nodded, “We can both have our butts plugged.” 

“You don’t have to try it if you don’t want to.” 

She gave me a skeptical look, then turned to look at the vibrator. 

“I want to try Mr. Pink right now.” she said. 

“Then let us try.” 

I took the warming lube and she took Mr. Pink. She’d discovered how to activate it inside the few steps to the bedroom. It buzzed joyfully in her hands and she squealed with laughter. 

“How do you wanna do this?” I asked. 

Gloria peeled out of her shirt, folding it twice before resting it on my desk. She climbed onto the bed and lay on her back, knees up. Mr. Pink still buzzed. I sat at her feet, watching. She put her hand between her legs, then into her bloomers. I could see her fingers working around her pussy, with one eventually finding its way inside. She shut her eyes as she began to masturbate. Her breathing began to quicken.

“What about Mr. Pink?” I asked, not that I wasn’t enjoying watching. 

“It’ll hurt if I just put him in right away.” she said, eyes still closed. 

“Oh. Well...that’s what lube is for.” 

Her eyes opened. I took Mr. Pink, shut him off, and with her watching, gave it a glossy finish with lubricant. Holding it up like it was a lit torch, I leaned over and pulled down Gloria’s bloomers to her ankles, which she kicked across the room. Even though I’d seen her naked before, it hadn’t been so many times that the effect was lost on me. Her round belly, the shape of her hips and chest. The pert roundness of her developing breasts. The smoothness of her skin, especially her vagina. I couldn’t help but delicately run my fingers down her body. 

“I can smell that stuff.” said Gloria, pointing at the lube. 

“It’s supposed to smell like strawberries.” I said. 

“It doesn’t.” 

It really didn’t. Best guess on the real smell was probably bad raspberries. Regardless, I moved forward, lowering Mr. Pink towards Gloria. I pressed his head against her. She squirmed from the touch. Like inserting a key, I slid the toy inside of her. She squirmed again, huffing a little out her nose. I moved it in and out a few times. With each one, she made a noise. 

“How is it?” I asked. 

“Feels good.” she said. 

“Moment of truth, then.” I said. I turned the knob that activated Mr. Pink. He began to buzz at full power. Gloria curved upwards, gripping my wrists. She was breathing hard and it only got harder as I pulled the device out of her. I got it to the head before putting it back it and she flopped around, covering her face with a nearby pillow. I remembered her sweet spot then, turning Mr. Pink in a way to points its natural curve into it. I pressed down on it just enough and Gloria swore loudly as her whole body convulsed. 

“Take it out!” she shouted. I obliged. A puddle appeared beneath her, a mix of her own mess and lube. She lay panting, hands over her face as though she’d just been in a fight. 

“Did it hurt?” I asked. 

“It felt too good!” she said, probably not meaning to shout but raising her voice anyway, “I thought I was gonna die!” 

I smirked, “You want to try a butt plug?” 

Slowly, Gloria sat up. She gave me a snide look before leaning to examine herself. She spread her vagina and carefully checked inside. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. After a moment’s thought, she looked up at me. 

“How about you try the butt plug?” she asked. 

I was in no place to argue, nor did I really want to. I stripped in silence. The excitement had already brought me to full mast, something Gloria paid no attention to as I crawled into bed. She had scurried to the living room to get the plugs and had torn them open before returning to bed. They were shaped like bullets with rubber wings at the end to prevent any accidental lossage. They turned on like Mr. Pink, who was now somewhere in the bed getting the sheets wet. I handed her the bottle of lube. 

“Show me your butt.” she said. I got on all fours and did so. 

“This stuff smells so bad.” she continued, applying lube, “Okay, ready?” 

Feeling her small hands handle my butt cheeks was a pleasure unto itself. She put the tip of the plug against my hole, then without warning entered it in. It felt like I was taking a shit and until motion stopped, I was worried I actually was. 

“It fits!” said Gloria. She sounded genuinely excited, “I was worried your butthole was too small for it!” 

“Turn it on.” I told her. 

“Huh? They turn on?” 

“Twist the bott--” 

The vibration was sudden and strong. The thing rattled around inside me, buzzing through my lower half the way a bell’s struck sound would an empty church. I clenched hard and its tip lowered in a way to just scrape my prostate. I looked up at the ceiling. 

“Push it in a little more.” I said. Gloria obliged. 

“That’s as far as it’ll go.” she said. It was enough. The sensation of it massaging my prostate was a pure pleasure loosed within me. I shut my eyes to enjoy it. In the darkness I felt Gloria’s hands wrap around my dick. I felt the warmth of her body press against mine. Her breasts rubbed against the small of my back. She began to jerk me off, up and down with both hands. It felt amazing. In my mind’s eye I was floating through absolute freedom, a sky clear and clean and perfect. I wanted it to last forever. 

I couldn’t hold on for even a fraction of that. I grunted and grit my teeth as I came, lurching forward and shooting my load all over the sheets. Gloria kept going until the last of it. When it was done I shuffled around and lay on my back, breathing hard. Gloria snuggled up next to me. 

“That was really amazing.” I said, “Thanks.” 

“It’s weird when you say thanks.” she said. I turned to look at her. Those water-clear emerald eyes, the pale pink of her lips and perfect white teeth. Her hair over her forehead and ears. I leaned in to kiss her. She tasted like crabcake. My hands wandered, one to her right breast and the other to her pussy, where my index and middle finger inserted themselves. We kept kissing as Gloria twitched and shook with it, culminating in an orgasm that made her grip my shoulders hard enough to leave marks. 

“It stinks in here.” she said, pulling away from me, “I need to shower again.” 

“Me too.” I said. With a laugh, I slid to the end of the bed. I stretched my arms over my head. Behind me, I felt Gloria moving around. Then there was spray of something warm and sticky all over my back, a lot of it. The whole room suddenly began to smell like bad raspberries. I whirled to Gloria, who was in a laughing fit on the bed. Once she was done, she sat up and wiped tears from her eyes. 

“Now we’re even.” she said. 

For the first time, we showered together. She stood in front, hanging close to me as the water poured over us. The first order of business was to clean that lube off, which was done with lots of soap and water. After that, Gloria cleaned herself out and helped spray clean my butt. Then we just stood together in the hot water. Gloria’s skin, shimmering wet, was so wonderful to the touch. She rest her head on my chest and I held it in place, gently stroking her hair. Truly, I thought, if there was a paradise in this world, this would be somewhere damn near close to it.


	6. Laundry Day

Friday Gloria was wearing a short blue dress that had pink flowers around the hem. Under it she had on capri-length yoga pants and sandals. It was the most everyday casual I’d seen her in a long time. She was peering down the hallway, arms crossed and lips pursed up. When I first opened the door, my heart sank a little, worried that it was me she was cross with. 

“Everything okay?” I asked. 

“My mom wants me to do laundry.” she said. 

“You don’t like doing laundry?” 

“I want to hang out with you, not do laundry.” 

I leaned back into the apartment to look at the pile of sheets from last night’s adventures. 

“How about we both do laundry?” I asked. 

“It’s just not as fun.” she said. 

“Come on, come on. It’ll be fine.”

Gloria showed me an expression that told me that this time it was my fault, “I wanted you to say I didn’t have to do it.” 

“Your mother told you to do it, I can’t go against that.” 

Gloria gave me a huffy look of betrayal before stomping off towards the stairs. 

“Do you need help carrying it?” I asked. 

“No!” she barked. 

I waited for her to reappear before gathering all the sheets and accumulated laundry into my arms. In silence we walked to the laundry room, just two different people.

I filled one machine with bedding, then another with clothes. Gloria did the same, but took extra steps to make sure whites and colors were divided. Her sandals slapped on the linoleum as she stomped across the room to buy detergent. I hesitated on purchasing my own detergent in favor of enjoying the show. 

“Stupid laundry.” she grumbled. I kept quiet. She crawled up onto the big wooden table behind the door and sat cross-legged, arms folded like an angry Indian chief. I went to sit in the single folding chair at the opposite end. 

“This reminds me of when we first met.” I said. I crossed my legs, looked whimsically up at the ceiling, “Was a night much like tonight…” 

“We should be doing fun stuff.” said Gloria, “We only get to be together two days a week. I don’t want to do laundry during it.” 

“I’m having fun.” I said. 

Gloria rolled her eyes, “Shut up.” 

“Do you want to play a word game?” I asked. Gloria didn’t respond. This was the first time I’d seen her in a legit sour mood and while I was all for getting her out of it, it was also an adorable state to witness. I looked over at the washers. Twenty minutes left. Then an hour of drying. It wasn’t that much time, really, but to a girl Gloria’s age I suppose time moved differently. 

“It’s better than sitting here in silence.” I said, “Let’s play last letter, first letter. You just make a word using the last letter of the word bef--” 

“I know how to play.” Gloria interrupted. 

“Alright. Tomato.” 

“Orange.” said Gloria, begrudgingly. 

“Eggplant.” 

“Toenail.” 

“Lime.”

“Elephant.” 

“Tomahawk.” 

Gloria made the k sound a few times, “Killer?” 

“Rotary.” I said. Gloria puffed. 

“That’s not a word.” she said. 

“Yes it is. Like a rotary phone. In circles, it means.” 

“What’s a ‘rotary’ phone?” 

An arrow of old age flew from Gloria’s youth and pierced my heart. Thirty wasn’t exactly a removed generation but to somebody Gloria’s age, I suppose any adult would be considered old-fashioned. 

“It’s a phone that used a special kind of dial for numbers.” I pantomimed with my fingers, “If I’d brought my phone I could show you.” 

“I’ll look it up.” Gloria reached into a pocket in her dress I didn’t notice to remove her phone. It was in a pink case with a fat cartoon bird on the backside. She thumbed it on. 

“R-O-T…” she said, “I-R-Y?” 

“A-R-Y.” I corrected. She looked intently as the phone loaded her query. 

“How weird.” she said, “They look hard to use.” 

“It was all we had.” I said, “My family didn’t get cool phones until I was already in college.” 

“My mom got this for me last year.” she said, flaunting her phone. 

“Any good games on it?” 

Gloria snapped her fingers, “Oh, we can play checkers! Me and my friend Margaret play it a lot when we hang out.” 

She put the phone on the table and tapped open the checkers app. It took a moment to load. When it did, we were presented with a checkerboard shaped to fit the rectangular phone. Gloria took the first move. I shuffled my chair closer and played next. 

“I asked my mom about crab cakes.” said Gloria, “She said next time we go shopping we can get the stuff. I told her I got the recipe from the internet.” 

“Save me one.” I said. Gloria nodded, then looked suddenly sad. 

“It’s almost the end of summer vacation.” she said, “Soon I won’t be able to stay up all night with you anymore.” 

“Well…” I wasn’t sure what to say, “Your education is more important.” 

“I’ll miss you, though.” 

“I’m not going to die.” I said. 

“But...when can I see you?” 

“Weekends, I guess.” I said, “Friday nights.” 

“One night a week, oh boy.” said Gloria. 

“We only hang out two nights as it is.” I said. 

“That’s sad too.” Gloria slowly took her turn, then leaned over the phone to smile coyly at me, “I still haven’t let you put it in my butt.” 

“There’s always time for that.” I said, “You still have to get used to it.” 

“I’ve been practicing!” she said, “I forgot to tell you! Yup, every day in the shower I practice putting my fingers in there. It doesn’t hurt anymore now that I’m used to it.” 

“Good job.” I said, “I’m proud of you.” 

Gloria made her move, then turned to look back over her shoulder at the closed laundry-room door. When I met her eyes after my play, she had extended her coy little grin into a full smile. 

“You should put your finger in my butt right now.” 

“Here?” I asked. 

She nodded. I held my breath, turning attentive towards the door. I had this fear that the instant I started anything it would fly open the game would be over. Still--the way Gloria was looking right now instilled a new kind of confidence in me. I nodded solemnly and she excitedly slid off the table and nestled her butt against my crotch. 

“I’ll keep watch.” she said. 

I put a hand on her belly and she stacked her hands on top of it. My other hand snaked up the back of her dress and burrowed into her pants. They were a tight fit anyway, nevermind how they squeezed when I was in there. I felt down her crack, going too far at first and meeting the incredible softness of her pussy. She twitched a bit. 

“I said butt.” she whispered. 

“Sorry.” I glanced up at the door. The secrecy of it all was, admittedly, very exciting. My index finger found her butthole. She squeezed my hand tighter as I gently pushed into her. I made it to the first knuckle before she made a sound. It was a loud enough grunt to warrant her hands over her mouth and a panicked look. We both shared that expression before turning to look at the door. 

“Nobody’s coming.” I said. A part of me, a demonic little jerk part, suddenly worried what the fallout would be of anybody walking in to see me holding a twelve-year-old girl in such a way. I slowly pushed up to the next joint. Gloria took in a long, hard breath, hand still over her mouth. I realized only then I’d not even applied saliva to my finger. I gently removed myself from her and she let out a breath I didn’t even know she was holding. 

“Put it back in.” she said. 

“Hold on.” I told her. I listened for any signs of outside life again, then coated my thumb and index finger in spit. Going back into her pants, I moved in a way to avoid losing the lubrication. This time, I inserted my thumb into her butt, all the way to the base. Her breath quickened, but not as much as when I followed up with my index finger in her pussy. As I held her hostage with the pinch, she huffed into her hands in a level attempt to stay quiet. I squeezed harder, which made her belly concave. I focused more on moving through her pussy, though both holes were equally as tight around me. I touched her spot, applying liberal pressure. The stretch made my thumb come out some, but based on her reaction when I squeezed the pinch again, it didn’t matter. 

She shouted something into her hands. Her head threw back with a burst of air. Her hands slapped my knees. I did it again and again, each time her reaction the same. She was very good at keeping quiet. 

“Do you want to go all the way?” I whispered. She gave me a look that said ‘of course, idiot’. 

In my arms, sitting in a laundry room at ten-thirty at night, Gloria collapsed into orgasm. She pressed her knees together as she came, gritting her teeth and snorting her into hand over her mouth. After it was over, she staggered out of my arms and sat on her knees on the floor. 

“It was really kind of exciting having to stay quiet.” I said. Gloria shot me a dark look. 

“No it wasn’t! I just wanted to shout!” she collected herself and stood, brushing flat the front of her dress. The washers all finished at the same time and their buzzers made both her and I actually scream in surprise. 

“Mission accomplished.” I said and together we laughed. 

\--- 

After laundry, we returned to my apartment and just sat around. Gloria was already satisfied and I didn’t feel much like doing anything explicit anyway, so we just sat. She curled up next to me, arm over my lap and my arm pulling her in. Her body heat felt real nice. 

“When do you start school again?” I asked. 

“Two weeks.” 

“I see.” 

Silence for a while. 

“Don’t do anything dirty until next week.” said Gloria, “They we can have sex and feel super good.” 

“Alright.” I said, “Nothing dirty.” 

“I mean it. Don’t come even once.” 

“You too.” I said. 

Another peaceful lull. Gloria kissed the back of my hand, a warm sensation that spread across the whole of me.

“Gloria.” I said. 

“Hmm?” 

“I’m going to miss you, too.” 

It was the truest thing I’d ever said.


	7. The Second Look Back

Sometimes, the morning after a night with Gloria, I spend a moment on the street trying to search for her window. I have no way of knowing what apartment she’s in, or if her window even faces the street. I just have this little hope that one day, she’ll be in that window and we’ll smile at each other and our relationship will permeate the confines of our personal universe into the outside creation.

I tell myself that I’m not obsessed with Gloria and that I don’t love her. I care for her quite a bit, however, but in the way that close friends would concern for each other’s well-being. Close friends, in this case, that tend to have sex. It was that little hanging caveat that started to bother me--not in any moral sense, really, because she was so okay with it--but on how it affected her vision of our relationship. It is a point that I’m too worried to bring up with her. 

Maybe someday. 

I pass the local Denny’s on my way to work. I turn my head to watch it as I pass. At the crosswalk, I stick my hands in my pockets and take in a deep breath of late-summer air. The slow pace of Saturday morning affords me a daydream or two. Time-travel four months back, to an invitation extended. 

\---

Gloria came back to my apartment dressed in a olive tee and capri jeans, with low top sneakers. She had on an old sweatshirt to accommodate the remaining chill. I slipped into a windbreaker and we were off. 

I surprisingly had to match Gloria’s pace, which she kept on the inside of the walk. The city was aglow in orange streetlights. Not a single star was visible. Only when she pulled up to walk along a brick wall did she start speaking. 

“Do you work nights?” she asked. 

“Nope.” I said, “Days. Saturday through Wednesday.” 

“Why are you up so late, then?” 

“I just like to.” I said, “What about you? Aren’t you tired?” 

Gloria shook her head. She was walking with her arms out to her sides, “I sleep all day during summer. My mom works nights so I like to be alone at night in my apartment.” 

“Sounds kinda sad.” I said. 

“No it’s not. Sometimes my friend Margaret comes over and we play games and stuff.” 

“I see.” 

Gloria hopped off the end of the wall and hurried ahead to press the crosswalk button. She held her hands behind her back. Cars passed like lost ghosts, mixing their brights with the bitter orange. Confused shadows shot around everywhere. We both crossed with permission, transferring from one world to another. 

“Do you have any friends?” she asked on the other side. 

“Not really.” I took a quick stock of my life, turning my attention to a big semi truck passing by. The wind that followed it blew up the tails of my jacket. 

“That’s sad.” said Gloria. 

“Sometimes adults just don’t make friends.” I said. Or, in my case, never had them. Aside from the few family members kicking around the country, I wasn’t in deep with anybody. Just a lonely star in the lonely sky. 

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” I asked. 

“Nope.” said Gloria, popping the ‘P’, “Just me. Sometimes my mom says that’s enough.” 

“I bet it is.” I said. 

Gloria skipped ahead through the Denny’s lot and was holding the door for me when I caught up. The college-girl waitress greeted us with a smile, stepping away from whatever she was doing on her phone. We were led to a booth near the back, next to one of the big windows. 

“Coffee.” I ordered when prompted. The waitress looked at Gloria, who pulled her nose from the menu to ask for an iced tea. 

“Get whatever you want.” I said. Head in hand, I looked out at the narrow backstreet. It was late enough that the roads looked near abandoned. There was no real foot traffic, outside of the occasional drunkard and the cars were far and few between. 

“What are you getting?” asked Gloria. She peered around her menu. 

“Probably just some pancakes.” 

She made a small noise and returned to the browse. 

“So, your mom’s at work right now, huh?” 

“Until six.” she said. 

“What about your dad?” 

Gloria didn’t answer. Her menu hid her like a castle wall.

“He’s...not around.” said Gloria. The tone in her voice changed. 

“I’m sorry for bringing it up.” I said. 

“It’s okay.” 

“My dad’s gone too.” I said. I returned to observing the street. The gentle din of the restaurant filled the space between us. Clattering dishes, ambient conversation from the few other people sprinkled about and the sound of that occasional car passing by outside. 

“Do you have any sisters or brothers?” When she asked, Gloria’s tone had reverted back. She looked around her menu at me with a serenely.

“One sister.” I held up a finger, “She lives in Indiana.” 

“That’s far away. Do you ever visit?” 

“Not really.” 

“Oh.” Gloria studied her menu for a moment more, then closed it and neatly laid it before her, “We’re just two lonely people.” 

“I guess we are.” I said. I laughed, “Is this better than being bored at home, really?” 

“Yes!” said Gloria. Her honest passion warmed my heart. The waitress came around soon after with our drinks and to take our order. I stuck with my simple double-stack and Gloria went for the the breakfast slam combo--whatever that was. 

“I bet she thinks you’re my daughter.” I said to Gloria after the waitress left, “Me and you here this late.” 

“We should just tell her we’re friends.” Gloria clicked her teeth nervously, “We are friends, right?” 

Yellow-haired Gloria, staring expectedly at me with her sparkling green eyes and a smile that remains bright despite having seen some of the world’s true cruelty, played a single chord and it struck with me in that perfect moment. A moment that held no assumptions of the future, or any at all. 

“Yeah, Gloria. We’re friends.” I held up my drink, “Friends!” 

She reached across the table and clinked her glass with mine. The sound resonated across time and space. I still heard it when I drifted out of my daydreams, standing behind the counter at work, four months later. Muscle memory had carried me through however many transactions and I was in the middle of bagging up a stack of DVDs for a middle-aged woman. She thanked me and left. I stood, suddenly aware of my body. A deep breath in, hard exhale. I called for my boss and went to take my break. 

\--- 

Time always unfolds in one moment. So much is spend living it that only when you turn around to remember does the paper open from the pressure and you realize how much was written on it. There’s no point in itemizing all my time with Gloria, but my time with her is something I’ll take to my deathbed. 

Every week I looked forward to that little knock, to seeing her face look up at me, to see what she was wearing that night, to hearing her jokes and about her days, to learning the little bits of her that pieced together her humanity and to share myself in the same way. 

Early on, the accidental touches and movements were all met with hurried apologies, but as the weeks forwarded, they were more welcome, wanted, even. By the beginning of August, it wasn’t uncommon for her to lay against me as we watched movies or to roughhouse around on the floor. A plateau of comfort formed and we sat on it hand-in-hand until the next peak grew in the center. 

Sitting on the back steps at work, I looked up at the clear August sky. Perfect blue, not a single cloud. Soon, the leaves will start to change. The wind will become again bitter. Winter itself will regain control, wrest from Autumn. 

My friend. 

My friend, Gloria. 

Time, life, demand--all of it would soon divide us. Move us apart. The notion suddenly hurt. Almost to tears and I accosted myself for it. The better angels of my nature hovered about, reminding me in the smallest of voices that this was a child, that the line I had crossed wasn’t meant to be by the standards of the society I was in and I knew it, I knew all of it--but in the end, she was my friend. 

Deep breath in, deep breath out. 

My apartment door opens. There’s Gloria. She comes in and we kill time as always. Sometime during the night, as I’m sitting on the couch, she approaches and gives me a hug. A deep hug. When she pulls back, she stares into my eyes for a long time. Hers are so beautiful. Clear, like water and as green as life itself. 

“I want to be with you forever.” she said. 

“Me too.” I said back, “I mean, with you.” 

Gloria sat staring for a long while, an emerald pierce. Her expression started at concern, heading through thoughtful and ended up determined. Her tongue hurried around her lips nervously before she spoke and when she did, a cool adulthood settled upon her child’s frame. 

 

“Do you want to see me naked?” she asked.


	8. The Final Night, Part One

For reasons only cruel, I checked when Gloria’s school resumed. St. Maydell’s online academic calendar said the first week of September--next week. That meant that tonight and tomorrow night were to be our last nights together. It was a fatalistic way to look at it, but with school I couldn’t see Gloria pulling all-nighters anymore and I doubt her mother would allow it anyway if she were even half the parent that Gloria had expressed to me that she was. The tiny trumpets of my better angels said to me that it was probably better this way. I kind of knew it, too. 

Thursday daytime I went for a walk. A long walk, the kind reserved for people whose lives demand reorganization. I shuffled the blocks around, looked at the aspects. I was happy with my life, with my silly job, with my apartment, with who I was. In the end, it all boiled down to one thing: I was going to miss Gloria. Forgetting age, she was my friend, my lover, a confidant. Our bells rang together. 

For the first time, when she knocked, I didn’t answer right away. I stood in my living room and watched the door. I could see her already, standing behind it. Fidgeting around in her cute little mannerisms as she waited. At the end of the second knock, I pulled out of shadows and answered. She was wearing her fleece pajama pants with a matching button-up top. She gave me an annoyed look. 

“I was in the bathroom, sorry.” I said. 

She was carrying a bag with her. She held it in front of her as she entered the apartment and made a show of it after I’d closed the door behind us. 

“I have crab cakes!” she said. I clapped my hands together. 

“I can’t wait.” I said, “Let me go get something to drink.” 

“Wait.” said Gloria, “I also brought something else, something I want to show you.”

“What is it?” 

Gloria looked at me, then at her bag. She considered something for a moment before shaking her head, “Let’s eat first.” 

From the bag she took a large tupperware container. It was crammed full of crabcakes and they tasted just as good as the ones we made together. I savored them as much as I did the time spent eating them with Gloria. We talked small about the weather and whatever new things had happened to us, which wasn’t much. Gloria told me about a funny bird video she’d watched and ended up showing it to me to prove how much it made he laugh. 

“Did you mom like these?” I asked, holding up a crab cake. 

“She say they were ‘delish’.” said Gloria, “She also ate like two dozen of them.” 

“I’m glad.” 

Gloria pointedly wiped her hands and mouth clean with napkin when she was done, then got to her feet and took up her bag. She showed me her palms. 

“Don’t move.” 

She vanished into the bathroom. I sat alone, looking at the few remaining crab cakes. The atmosphere was tense. I hoped that it was just affecting me. I didn’t want this last night to be marred for Gloria in that way. I wanted this to end as peacefully as it began. 

Five minutes later Gloria returned, emerging nervously dressed in her school uniform. It was a monogramed white blouse tucked into a pleated grey skirt and eggshell-white leggings. The only thing missing was the shoes. Hands behind her back, she looked at me for approval. I wasn’t sure what to say at first. Seeing her in uniform shed a different light, a sudden spot of revealing glare that showed her as a person outside our friendship, a human child still enrolled in the world. This was Gloria completed. 

“You look great.” I said. She smiled, obviously relieved. 

“I really wanted to show this to you.” she said, “I just got it a few days ago from the uniform place.” 

She walked over to me and took my hand. Despite using very little strength, she was able to pull me to my feet and lead to me to the easy chair, where I was sat down. Not once did eye contact stray as she climbed onto my lap. She kissed me. The tension bowed but didn’t break. I recalled my first kiss with her, only a few weeks prior. I remembered all the times together, the sudden sound of her voice. In that kiss, in the softness of her lips and taste of her breath, I became a different person altogether. 

“What’s wrong?” she asked, pulling away and using her thumbs to clear the tears from my cheeks. 

I shook my head, “I really don’t know.” 

This time I kissed her, but only because I couldn’t bare to see her swelling tears break. My hands began to wander. Slowly down her back, thumbs under the band of her skirt then around to sneak up under it. I cupped her butt, squeezed her thighs and came back around to feel her belly and gently hold her breasts under her shirt. She leaned into me, her hands moving just as much. She began to heat up. She lurched back as my hand went down the front of her tights, my fingers touching her pussy. 

“Just put it in.” she said. She took my hand by the wrist and removed it from herself. A sudden burst of passion made me grab her by the hips and carry her to the floor. Her legs were kicking furiously around me as I pulled down her tights. They hung limply off of one foot as I struggled my dick free. Her panties must have gone with the tights, or maybe she’d not even wore any, as she was bare under the skirt. Her legs went up over me as I pushed into her. She soundlessly sucked in air, digging nails through my shirt and into my skin. 

Last week she’d made a point to tell me not to do anything dirty. It was advice she herself must have heeded, as she was as slippery as I’d ever felt her. Her insides gripped my penis hard, sucked me into her and I pushed in almost to the base. She was on her back, legs extended, arms around me and her head at my sternum, In and out I went, each time creating another gasp of pleasure or a gravely moan from her. Be it true passion, be it the atmosphere of finality or just the heat of the moment, the need to go faster and harder started to emerge. 

“Can I go all the way?” I asked. She only nodded, eyes closed. I slammed into her, skin slapping against skin and the wetness creating a suctioning ‘pop’. I wanted to make it better for her, for me. I pumped into her again and again, the sheer pleasure of it removing anything but basic instinct. 

I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her with me as I sat flat on my ass, legs crossed. She kept her legs wrapped around me and put her head on my shoulder. I gripped her butt and moved her myself up and down around my dick. Like this, I was able to twist in a way to hit her sweet spot. She began to vocally express herself. Almost screaming, her moans became alarmingly loud. Caution to the wind, I slid a finger into her butthole. It clamped around me just as hard. 

I’d crossed my limit a long while back. It was a miracle I’d not come yet, especially with how hard we were going. I turned my head slightly to whisper into her ear, 

“I can’t hold on much longer.”

We were just two rays of light, a shimmering beacon of paradise reflected across a lake. The hot fires of ecstasy immolated me, poured across my skin like napalm. If the world had ended outside of us, I wouldn’t have noticed nor even cared. Being here with Gloria, feeling her body, her insides, her breath and hearing her voice--knowing her as a person, remembering all the times we’ve had together...this was my friend, this was...this was…

My eyes flew open as Gloria bit my shoulder. She clamped down hard, enough to draw blood. The pain mingled with the pleasure and together created a new kind of joy. She held onto me as tight as ever as she extended furiously into orgasm. I could feel every muscle in her body go rigid. It was empty of anything but absolute joy. She tightened around my dick so hard I saw stars when I came, a whole universe of nothing but the immaculate pleasure that was being with Gloria. 

\--- 

“Stop crying.” 

She was still wrapped around me as I sat on the floor. I’d slid out of her. I could feel the wetness and how it pooled. Blood trickled down my shoulder, along with the tears that Gloria shed. I sniffled like an idiot. 

“I can’t help it.” I said. 

Gloria rubbed her nose on my shirt. I put a hand on the back of her head. 

“Why did you become friends with me?” I asked. 

“I don’t know.” she said, “This is so stupid. This is so, so stupid. You’re not dying, I can still see you so why...why…” 

At that moment, I realized it. The point of it, the tip of the mountain. The culmination of everything together. A realization as horrible as that of death to the first sentient man. 

“It’s not meant to be.” I said, “It has to end because it wasn’t ever meant to be. Like a fleeting dream, this has only ever existed because...because….”

“Because why?” sobbed Gloria. 

“Because we wanted it to.” 

“So what?! Isn’t that enough? I want to be your friend! I want to feel your body and feel good with it! I want to know you! Wh-why can’t that just b-b-be?” 

I didn’t have an answer. 

Probably….

Probably because there wasn’t one.


	9. The Final Night, Part Two

The clock says two-fifteen in the morning, but time has been rendered meaningless. We’re on the floor, sitting back-to-back. She’s holding my hand. The pressure has subsided, yet not vanished. The lighting in the room, the stiffness of the air, the white noise of the distant bedroom fan and the gentle movement of our breathing creates a small universe for just two creatures to inhabit: Gloria and me. 

“My whole life.” said Gloria, her voice like a ringing bell, “I’ve been alone. My dad died when I was...little. Drugs, I think. He died just when I just started to know him. My mom is always working for a better life for me. I love her for that, but I’m always alone. I’m not…” Gloria sniffled, rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, “I’m not good at making friends. M-Margaret is fun to hang out with but I’m not super-close with her or anything.” 

“Why me, then?” I asked. 

“I don’t know.” said Gloria. She bubbled at the end, catching it into another sniff and releasing a sharp exhale, “I just...I felt like we could be friends.” 

“We are friends.” I said. 

“Then why are we both so goddamn sad?” 

Because we’re not supposed to be friends, I thought, because it’s against the rules, because the world is very small in that way. Because we have different lives, we’re two different people. Because a thousand reasons.

“The world is ending.” I said, “This little place we’ve made, it has to go away.” I swallowed, my throat still dry, “Gloria...do you love me?” 

I felt as light as air. Like I didn’t exist except as the concept of me. I waited for her answer in a nervous bubble, eyes shut. There was no telling what to expect or what I even wanted. 

“No.” said Gloria, “I don’t think I do. But it’s something else. Something that makes us so good together anyway. I want to be with you, past friendship, past love.” 

“You’re too smart for me.” I said. 

“Do you love me?” asked Gloria. 

“I’m sorry.” I said. I hated that I was crying through this, that I was just an empty bit of existence during it, “I do.” 

Gloria was crying now, full, hard sobbing. I squeezed her hand. I could feel her back lurch against mine. I wanted both to be as far from here as I could and at the same time somehow even closer. I accosted myself for being so weak, for being such a slack of a man that I could fall in this deep for not only a child, but for somebody I’ve only known for four months. 

Who am I, I wondered. Have I ever even known? Does anybody know? Does my family know, my sister and mother, my dad--wherever he ended up, do they know? Does my boss know? The customers I see every day, do they know? Does the world know at all? 

No. 

They don’t. 

Only Gloria does. And that’s why I love her. I understood a single breath of thought. Every time the door opened, I saw her. Every day, the door opened and there she was. The same smile, the same girl, I could talk to her and she to me. I shut my eyes, hard. I see Gloria sitting across from in a Denny’s booth. 

“We’re just two lonely people.” 

Gloria is a much better person than I am. At the precipice of the most vulnerable part of her life, she so easily is able to determine between love and friendship.

“It wasn’t so hard, becoming friends with me.” I said, “You can do it again. You’ll live a whole life without me. A much better existence.” 

“Shut up.” said Gloria. 

“I want you to.” I said. 

“Shut up.” she said again. I slapped a hand against the carpet and whirled around. She dropped into my arms and fought herself to her knees. Her shimmering green eyes were puffy and red, her cheeks stained with tears. Her lips were quivering. I’m sure I looked just as a mess. 

“Thank you, Gloria.” I said, “For being my friend.” 

I couldn’t even finish the sentence without breaking down. 

The end of our universe was one constructed of sorrow. She wailed in my arms, I cried into hers. Everything became a haze, a wash of sound and color and emotion. Only when we were both on our feet again, when the world had started to crack and crumble, did we speak with an semblance of normalcy. 

“This is it.” I said, “You should probably head home.” 

Gloria. She stood with her tights in one hand, her bag in the other. I walked her to the door. She stood in the hallway, back to me. I watched as she took a tremendous breath inward and exhaled cleanly. 

She turned to me with a smile brighter than anything I’ll ever see or have ever seen. I opened my mouth to say goodbye one last time, but couldn’t find it in me. So I smiled back, trying my best to emulate her newborn star. 

Then she left. 

I turned, closed the door and looked at my apartment. Everything went back to what it was four months ago and I had nothing to show for it except the striking bloat in my heartspace. There were no pictures, no texts, nothing but what I knew. 

This was a new universe for me, exactly the same as the old one. 

Well…

Just a little crueler.


	10. The New Universe

Living a decent life is hard to do. 

Being human dictates that you not only have to abide by the rules of society around you, but by the rules you set for yourself. For example: I can drive a car: a cheap little Subaru I bought off craigslist. Society dictates that I drive in the right lane and at posted speeds. I dictate that I drive in the right lane at appropriate speeds. Society dictates that I find a job and keep it in order to maintain a quality of living. I dictate that I can change my job whenever I want and quality is subjective. Society dictates that you don’t fall in love with children. I dictate...well...

It took me the better part of a year to figure what to do next. I called my sister and asked what Indiana was like this time of year, what the job market was all about. I called my mother and asked the same thing, but for Miami. The former won out, simply because I couldn’t stand the heat. I bought my car and began getting rid of my stuff. It takes a long time to move properly. My apartment became emptier and emptier. I threw out Mr. Pink and the rest of the Sarah’s stuff. I deep-cleaned my carpets. I started working out at night at a 24-hour gym across town. I wasn’t shooting for results, just distraction. 

Living a decent life…

I saw her just once in the six or so months between our departure and mine. It was a cool October Saturday morning. I had just left the building for work and turned towards the parking lot, rather than the street. A blond woman came out of the building, her features strikingly familiar. I forced myself not to stare as I passed, instead only giving a polite nod and hello. She returned the pleasantry. When I got to my car, she said something. Not to me, but the sound of a voice made me look up anyway. She was standing next to her own car and calling towards the building. 

Gloria came out of it. Dressed in a puffy blue coat and blue jeans, she was grinning as she ran towards her mother. I looked down at my feet, pretending to mess with my keys as I focused to try and hear their conversation. Something about a restaurant and...well, whatever. Errant talk between family members. I heard a car door close and looked up. 

Gloria was standing at the back of the car, hand on the trunk. She was twenty feet away yet her stare made it two. She was looking right at me. For only the briefest of moments, we returned to our universe and in it, she smiled at me. I heard a bell sounding. Then the moment ended. Gloria got into the car and drove off. I did the same. 

I quit my job a few months later. Everything I owned now was stowed into my little Subaru. This was my whole world now, soon to be expanded outward in a new home, a new job and a new life sixteen hours away. I couldn’t help but weep nostalgic over where I was leaving. Over the trees outside my building, over the building itself. Over the roads, the city and sky. This was not only a place I’d lived in for many years but also where I lived through Gloria. 

Gloria. 

The world will never know. Only me and you. 

Society dictates that I’m a monster. I dictate that...maybe, yeah, but also I loved our time together. I loved the feeling of her body, of holding her, being close to her. Knowing her intimately. At the city limits I couldn’t help but pull over and look down the highway, just a stretch of road that curved into a horizon full of buildings. I reached a hand up towards the sky holding an invisible glass. 

“Friends!” I shouted. 

I could hear the sound of two glasses meeting and on that fading echo, I rode off into my new universe.


End file.
